Chapter 1: The Ad
She read it last night, but did not believe it. She had seen similar posts before,
all of which were mere words, the reality far less fulfilling than they suggested. But
this one felt different, it seemed so blunt and matter-of-fact. She could not respond
immediately as her doubts and disappointments assailed her. She instead went to bed and
played with her sopping pussy, just reading the ad got her juices flowing, again.
She had her recurring dream that night, the one that haunted her. She was restless
as she tossed and turned. The sun poured through the blinds as she slowly woke up, her
hands still nestled in her damp crotch. Her mind was fixated on that damn ad! She dreamt
of her fantasy Master again last night, the words in the ad now fueling the dream. She
rolled onto her belly, her fingers rubbing her sex furiously as she recalled it.
She knelt on a cold stone floor, naked as the day is long, save for the iron
manacles on her wrists and ankles. She was kissing the heavy boots of the man sitting in
front of her, waiting for his command. She knew she was in a dungeon, but the particulars
of the space were indistinct in her dream.
Then his feet parted and as if it was a silent command she crawled up between them.
She found his cock waiting for her hungry lips and she swallowed the offered member. She
took his balls in her hands and fondled them as her mouth and tongue consumed his
manhood.
Then she felt the kiss of the whip on her back as he flogged her from above. The
pain and pleasure she felt in her body was what she ached for, and he gave her what she
needed. The blows rained down, like a stinging cold storm in the winter. But the cold
blows melted into her flesh as the heat of his cock filled her mouth.
Suddenly he pulled it her from her mouth and tossed her to the floor. In an instant
he was on top of her, his monstrous member deep inside her wet pussy. Buried under his
weight, she ground her body into the cold stone floor as she moaned with her rising
passion. Her tits were crushed and the dull pain felt wonderful.
He ravaged her hard and fast, and then he slid his cock out of her cunt, only to
wedge it between her ass cheeks. He smacked her ass several times, inflating her arousal,
before stuffing it deep inside her bum. The feel of his cock climbing back into her, only
through her tight little sphincter now, sent her into a delirious orgasm as he pounded
into her backside.
Back in her bed again, the orgasm washing over her from her nimble fingers
strumming her sex, she made a decision. She would take one last shot, if this ad were not
real, then she would give up. She crawled from her bed and over to her computer to turn it
on. While it booted up she went to the bathroom.
When she returned she found the ad again and read it several times.
Seeking a real sex-slave. She must be willing to completely submit to a 24/7 RT M/s
relationship. She will crave pain, humiliation, and objectification, with few if any
limits. If she is deemed worthy, she will be contracted for one year. If at the end of
that time she wishes to make it permanent, that is possible.
It was blunt and seemed to be the core of what she sought, but experience told her
that was unlikely. Still she knew that few, if any, of the women who sought this lifestyle
would answer such a simple ad, it was too dangerous. To Marcy, however, it was a challenge
she could not resist. The fact that he was clearly local, by the city and state listed in
his ad, made the pursuit of it even more enticing. She had tried to connect with ones at a
distance, but it was just too difficult.
Once the reply box popped up on her computer screen, she simply typed a short
response. ‘Sir, this girl would like to be considered.’ She attached a pic of herself
bound to her bed with a hood over her face. It displayed all her charms except for the
beauty of her face. She hit send and then went about her business.
She took a shower, had some breakfast, and dressed. It was Saturday and with the
weekend off from work, a rather boring secretarial position at a local accounting firm,
she had no real agenda. So she returned to her computer to surf kinky websites. The
mailbox was flashing in the corner of her monitor; she had a new message.
To her surprise, he had already replied to her. Was he just another desperate geek
hoping for an easy lay? She wondered as she opened the message, surprised by its brevity.
If you are interested, complete the attached form and send it to me. Remain at your
computer until you hear back from me.
Along with the message was a picture of a man in a black hood, leather vest,
leather pants, and black boots. He was well built, muscular and tall, much like her
personal vision of the perfect Master.
She opened the form and read it over. It was a basic BDSM checklist asking her to
choose what her likes and dislikes were and other generalities. She quickly filled it out,
only leaving children and animals as her hard limits. She was amazed at how many
activities she had experienced and how many more she craved. When she was done, she
emailed it back to him and sat there staring at the computer.
What to do? It was silly to think he would ever know if she left the computer, and
who was he to order her about without her initial consent? Then again, she did reply to
his ad, asking for his consideration. She looked at the picture of him again, thinking of
the possibilities; she decided to obey for now.
She paged through sites for nearly an hour, always looking to the little mailbox in
the corner of her screen, waiting anxiously. When it started to flash she felt a lump in
her throat. She stared at the flashing icon for several minutes before she could work the
mouse to open it, when she did she was surprised at the box that popped up. ‘Read receipt
requested by sender’ it said, and without thinking she clicked yes.
The message opened and it was definitely lengthier. She began to read it, her
cunt tingling in anticipation.
You appear somewhat experienced and certainly have a healthy curiosity for many
scenarios. Should you choose submission to me you must let go of all prior experiences and
learn slavery by my rules. I would also require that you forgo all current contact from
the real world once under contract. To that end, I will provide you with the cash
equivalent of two times your annual salary, or $50,000 if you are not currently employed.
You will be able to verify the money is real and it will be made available upon completion
of your contract should you choose to move on at that point.
If you do accept the contract, any rights you have will be solely at my discretion, based
on limits agreed to in said contract. But before we continue, you must accept a test of
your desire to really pursue this. If you succeed at completing this test we will meet. At
that time we shall see if we are compatible. If you do not have any plans for tomorrow,
let me know and I will send further instructions as to how this will begin.
She read it several times and it was definitely different. This guy looked serious
about his pursuit; no one ever offered money or asked that she abandon her life to pursue
a relationship. Either he was rich, or he was a true psycho. But then she asked herself
who could really pull off such a daring scenario. She decided to try this out, but if he
tried to isolate her in any way during this test, she would just end it rather than put
herself in jeopardy.
To that end, she sent him the following message: I have no plans for tomorrow, but
do work during business hours Monday to Friday. I am willing to accept your test as long
as I do not feel you are putting me in danger. I will wait for your reply.
With no command this time to sit at the computer she went about her normal Saturday
chores, cleaning up her small apartment. She found herself checking that damn mailbox icon
every fifteen minutes or so. Two hours later it flashed again. She sat in front of the
computer, her palms now sweaty, and she opened it.
I was pleased to receive your reply to my message, though it seems you were not ready
when I sent it, as it took several minutes for your receipt to reach me. Going forward,
should you wish to prove your potential obedience, I expect no similar delays.
Tomorrow morning you will wake at seven am. You will shower and shave your legs, armpits,
and the bush between your legs, if you have one. From there you will dress in your sexiest
lingerie and outfit. You will go to the Piedmont Arms hotel at 9am and at the front desk
ask for the envelope waiting for Monica. Since I do not yet know your name that is the one
I chose for you. Follow the instructions provided in the envelope.
Interesting, she thought. At least it was a public place, no harm in finding out
what this was all about. With a spring in her step and a tingle in her crotch, she went
about her cleaning. She made an appointment at the beauty parlor for this afternoon for
her hair and a full waxing, thinking that shaving was so mundane.
That night in her bed, her flesh still tingling from the painful denuding this
afternoon, she worked her insatiable cunt furiously. She wondered what evil plans this
mystery man had in store for her. After several satisfying orgasms, she set her alarm and
went to sleep. The dream returned, though the figure in it now looked just like the
picture in her email.
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